


you're so worth it (you are)

by isloremipsumafterall (orphan_account)



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February Trope Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/isloremipsumafterall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Constance draws the interest of the new girl in school and there's something about Flea that makes her interested right back</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're so worth it (you are)

**Author's Note:**

> for the high school part of my femtrope bingo

Constance hadn’t been paying much attention when the new transfer student came into the room, she’d been busy sketching out her latest design to work on in her fashion class, but she finally looked up when her name was dropped as Ninon told the new student to take a seat next to her.

 

The blonde teen was lanky, maybe only a little bit shorter than her, and jeans whose holes had been patched up with a different kind of fabric. The tank top she wore certainly wasn’t school regulation and at some point Constance was willing to guess she’d get in trouble for it but by the pleased smirk the blonde wore Constance doubt she’d care about that.

 

When she caught Constance watching her she grinned and offered her a wink, dropping into the seat next to her and tapping her fingers on the desk like she wanted the class – or the day – to be over already.

 

It occurred to Constance that she’d missed hearing the blonde’s name announced, instead been preoccupied by her drawing that now didn’t seem as interesting as the new arrival.

 

Her blonde hair looked purposely untamed, a few braids in it here and there that suggested boredom more than any sort of fashion statement but the first thing Constance thought when taking a look at her was that this teen would make a good model for some kind of punk clothing line.

 

Immediately her mind churned at the ideas of such a clothing line and she turned back to her paper, erasing what she had and redrawing it with something new in mind, occasionally sneaking a glance at the blonde beside her who looked unconcerned with the attention.

 

Towards the end of class the blonde leaned over, sneaking a peek at her work and chuckled, “I guess I make a good muse.” She commented, her accent much rougher than Constance’s own.

 

Constance flushed, embarrassed to have been caught like that though she hadn’t really been hiding it. “I suppose you do.” She settled for saying, steeling herself to meet the blonde’s pale blue eyes and not looking away.

 

It made the blonde grin widely and behind them the bell rang.

 

“Well, Connie,” The blonde dropped the shortened name with a drawl, “Any time you need a muse I’m happy to provide.”

 

She stood, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders and sauntering out of the room with her hips swinging in a purposeful gesture.

 

“It’s Constance.” Constance muttered too late and huffed, wishing she’d had the sense to hide her drawing a little better but as she looked down at it she had a sense of pride on how it had turned out.

 

Maybe she wouldn’t be seeing the blonde often beyond that class and could put her out of mind for a while.

 

~~

 

Samara was reading her English lit book when Constance arrived at their usual lunch table, no doubt for fun as opposed to the rest of them who felt they had to suffer through it.

 

She barely nodded at Constance as Constance sat down, instead enthralled by the words on the page and occasionally scribbled something down that looked like she was forming some kind of debate against the book.

 

“Have you happened to see a new girl?” Constance asked, for all that she’d tried she hadn’t been able to put the blonde out of her mind and Samara’s eyes flickered away from her book at Constance’s question.

 

“Blonde?” Samara asked, setting the book down, “Jeans and a tank top?”

 

Constance nodded, “So you’ve seen her then?”

 

“She’s behind you,” Samara said with a nod of her head and Constance turned around to see Porthos talking to the blonde as they walked towards their table.

 

He stopped once they arrive and the blonde turned away from him, catching Constance’s eye and smirking at her, waving her fingers lightly in a jest that made Constance roll her eyes.

 

“Well,” Constance cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow at Porthos, “Are we going to get an introduction?”

 

As she said it the others of their group had arrived at the table; Aramis smiling flirtatiously at the new comer as Anne elbowed him, Athos looked wholly uninterested though Constance knew he was taking a sharp account of what was going on, d’Artagnan had given them his full attention, and Milady was barely even paying attention their going ons.

 

The blonde clucked her tongue once, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me? And here I thought I’d made an impression, Connie.”

 

“Don’t call me that.” Constance said automatically, without much heat to it.

 

The blonde rested one hand on her hips, arching them slightly in a way that drew attention there but Constance refused to look away from her eyes in a challenge.

 

“I certainly remember you.” The blonde teased and then reached into pocket to pull out something familiar.

 

“You stole my wallet?” Constance hissed, her eyes widening and she vaguely heard Porthos groan behind the blonde and mutter something.

 

“I was interested.” The blonde assured her and threw it back, “Didn’t take anything, scout’s honour.”

 

There was no way the blonde had been a scout and everyone at the table knew it.

 

Porthos cleared his throat behind them, resting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, “Constance this is Flea, she and I grew up together.”

 

At least now she had a name to put to the face.

 

“She stole my wallet.” Constance repeated, incredulous.

 

“And I gave it back, no harm intended, I swear.” Flea took the seat next to her and for a moment actually looked sincere enough that Constance was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

 

“Fine,” Constance sighed, “Don’t do it again.”

 

“Won’t,” Flea’s eyes twinkled with mirth again, “Scout’s honour.”

 

Constance stared at her quietly until Anne broke the silence by asking Flea where she had been previously, something Flea dodged answering by instead regaling them of tales of hers and Porthos’ childhood.

 

~~

 

Much to her annoyance Constance became stuck on the clothes she had been drawing, her mind blank as she tried hard not to picture Flea and how the clothes would look on her.

 

“Well you look deep in thought, anything about me in there?” Flea whispered so Ninon didn’t hear them, leaning onto Constance’s desk.

 

“No Flea, there isn’t.” Though she wanted there to be only so she could get herself unstuck from this blockage.

 

“Pity.” Flea sighed and then rested her head on her hand, staring at Constance, “Something is bothering you though.”

 

“If you must know I’m stuck.” Constance huffed, gesturing towards her paper where only half completed sketches of designs were.

 

Flea picked up the papers, leaning back in her in seat and flipping through them. Constance nearly protested except at that moment Ninon turned towards them and she bit her tongue so she didn’t snap at Flea for taking them.

 

Flea stopped once she got to the drawings Constance had completed, the ones where she had clearly been imagining Flea and when Flea raised a knowing eyebrow at her Constance looked away, pretending not to notice.

 

The class bell rang and she snatched the papers out of Flea’s hands, hurriedly shoving them into her bag.

 

“You know,” Flea rushed after her as she exited the class, “I realize you don’t like me but if I am helping you get ideas for things I don’t mind it.”

 

Constance stopped, feeling suddenly guilty, “I don’t not like you Flea. Even if you did steal my wallet.”

 

It was true that aside from that Flea hadn’t been so bad, even funny every now and then, whispering jokes to Constance in class.

 

“Hm.” Flea inclined her head, smiling, “Good to know.” They reached the hallways where they had to part for different classes and Flea walked off with a wave of her hand and yelled back to Constance, “The offer still stands if you need it.”

 

Constance stood there, watching Flea leave and actually did consider it.

 

~~

 

“Tell me about Flea.” She said to Porthos without further explanation as she sat down next to him in their French class.

 

They were supposed to practicing sentences but instead she was focused on one goal: actually learn about Flea.

 

Porthos looked at her quietly and then sighed, “She’s had a hard life Constance. And it’s not for me to say.”

 

Constance frowned at the comment, wondering if that meant Flea was in some kind of trouble.

 

“But if you want to know that much about her maybe try to meet her on her side of things.” He scribbled down something and passed it to her, an address on the far side of town. “Just…try to understand.”

 

“I will Porthos,” She assured him, patting him on the arm in thanks.

 

~~

 

It took her half an hour on the bus to get to the address after school ended, pressing herself into the seat uncomfortably at how crowded it was but when she made it she realized she wasn’t standing in front of a house but a soup kitchen.

 

She opened the door gingerly, wondering if perhaps she’d made a mistake in reading the address but as she looked around she spotted Flea standing behind the counter, serving meals to everyone who arrived.

 

Flea looked up briefly from what she was doing, seeing Constance and her eyes widened. After a second she sighed and jerked her head towards the door, indicating where Constance should meet her.

 

“I suppose this is Porthos’ doing?” Flea asked, running a hand through her hair.

 

“He…he meant well.” Constance told her, “Flea you don’t have to explain this to me-”

 

“I come here to help out.” Flea began, cutting her off, “Give back to places like this that helped me out as a child.”

 

Constance fell quiet, she’d known that Porthos had had a rough childhood until he’d found a stable foster home at Treville’s, it only made sense that if he’d grown up with Flea she’d have experienced the same.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with giving back.” Constance said, reaching out to grasp Flea’s arm. “I think it’s admirable.”

 

“I don’t need your pity.” Flea sounded cross, her eyes narrowing.

 

“It isn’t Flea.” Constance kept her voice steady, “It’s understanding, or I’m trying to.”

 

That gave Flea pause and then she let out a breath and her shoulders fell.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Did you want some help here?” Constance asked, gesturing back to the lineup.

 

Flea looked at her in consideration and then grinned and Constance couldn’t help but smile at seeing some of the amused Flea back, “Why not. You’re good with your hands.”

 

Constance rolled her eyes when Flea winked but felt better about making Flea laugh again.

 

~~

 

By the time they finished up for the night Constance was ready to fall asleep on her feet.

 

“Come on,” Flea grabbed her hand and pulled her along, “I’ll take you home.”

 

She took them outside and Constance stopped short at seeing the motorcycle that Flea was walking towards.

 

“Trust me,” Flea said, laughing at Constance’s reaction, “Unless you’re scared.”

 

Constance heard the challenge and knew Flea was goading her but still couldn’t resist.

 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

“Good,” Flea swung her legs around the motorcycle and tossed Constance the helmet, “Now get on and hang on tight.”

 

It was slightly exhilarating, the speed and wind rushing around them, her hands grasped tightly to Flea’s side and she laughed as Flea showed off a little, surprisingly not worried at all.

 

“How did you know where I live?” Constance asked when they arrived, having clued in that she’d never told Flea, stepping off the bike and shaking her hair out, hoping she didn’t look too ridiculous.

 

Flea looked at her and then reached out to tap her pocket where her wallet was and Constance made a face at her.

 

“Did you want to come in?” Constance asked, “My parents aren’t around, they’re off on a business trip.”

 

“An offer like that usually leads somewhere.” Flea said, snickering when Constance reached out to shove her shoulder lightly.

 

“You’re incorrigible.” Constance told her, walking them to the door and letting them both in.

 

“I try.” Flea took a look around her place quietly, a slight look of longing in her eyes.

 

As she did Constance got an idea, pulling out her sketch book and taking a seat, looking between it and Flea as she drew.

 

“What idea have I given you now?” Flea asked, amused, stepping over to take a look.

 

Constance held it up for her to see; it wasn’t an artistic redesign of Flea’s clothing like she’d been doing before, just a drawing of Flea as she was.

 

“That hardly seems in fashion.” Flea said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Constance told her, “I just felt like remembering this moment.”

 

“I thought that’s what cameras were for.”

 

Constance waved her hand, dismissing it, “Too simple.”

 

“You do seem to like things the hard way.” Flea teased and Constance shook her head in hearing the innuendo anyway.

 

Flea straightened up suddenly, smiling softly, “I should get going.”

 

“You can stay,” Constance offered, “If you’d like.”

 

Flea caught her eyes, suddenly hesitant, “Constance…”

 

“Stay,” Constance took her hand, pulling her down to the couch next to her, “Tell me more about yourself.”

 

“Well,” Flea played along, “I do have this crush, on this beautiful girl in my class.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“She has quite the temper but the first time I saw her she was so focused on her work I couldn’t help but watch her.”

 

“I do not have a temper Flea.” Constance scowled at her.

 

“Who said I was talking about you?” Flea tsked at her in jest, “Quite an ego you have Connie.”

 

“Flea.”

 

“I do like how you say my name, even in exasperation.” Flea inched closer, smiling.

 

“Stop giving me reasons to say it like that.” Constance teased back and she moved to lay down more on the couch, pulling Flea with her until the other woman was resting on her stomach. “Now really tell me about yourself.”

 

“Fair’s fair, Connie, I get to hear about you too.” Flea said and Constance nodded though she wasn’t sure Flea saw.

 

They talked into the night, Constance learning more and more about Flea and as she did she might have become more and more attached to her.

 

There was still time to see where that attachment might go; years ahead of them to see.


End file.
